The Death of Love
by total-rand0
Summary: A story of the end of DA:O where the warden romances Alistair.


It was unfair. Born Dailsh all that was ever expected of her was to provide for her clan. She never wanted to be a Grey Warden. She barely even knew what they were. A childhood story. When the worst happened, she fought the idea tooth and nail, Duncan practically had to pull her away from her clan to get her to join. She only drank at the Joining because she saw what the consequences of refusing were. She had lost her would be love in a random cave, not even able to confirm his death until many months later. What a sick joke her life had been, one moment on top of the world, the next a slave to a disease she couldn't understand. So she left with the stranger, Duncan, only to watch him die horrifically only a few days later. The battle? Well more like the slaughter. What was the point? Death surrounded her. Why couldn't she just _fucking_ die?

But there was a reason, no? Why give up when so much was expected of her. Sure, she barely understood what the words "Grey Warden" meant, but how could she quit when so much was at stake. Death might be frightening, but she were braver she might have taken her own life. However, the way her companions looked up to her, she couldn't let them down.

So she persisted, until the pain of loss lessened. She made friends and met new people, who she eventually learned to call friends as well. She became a true Grey Warden. She cared for the sick, the poor, the least of Ferelden's people even with the Darkspawn knocking at the door. She especially took comfort in her fellow Grey Warden Alistair.

First they were colleagues, pawns in a greater game, merely thrown together to unite the people against the Darkspawn. Then they were friends. Who wouldn't be after all they had seen and done? They had bonded in the depths of the dungeons and the plains of war. But the bond was even greater, beyond friendship, beyond words. She loved him. First as a friend, then second as a companion. It was desperate, the end drew ever nearer and the impending doom was real. What little time they had was passionate, any battle could be their last and they were determined to make the most of what little time remained.

In the end the killing blow ended up being not the sword of a darkspawn, but the words of a friend. Arl Ameon of Radcliffe. He spoke the truth of her love's lineage. Her love's _royal_ lineage. She was thrilled. He had a purpose, a place, a home. But he was hesitant, scared. "What if I'm not meant to rule?" She had assured him that he would be a good ruler, but nothing could convince him that he was meant to rule.

Time had passed in an awkward way; she had tried to make him see! He had the blood! He was meant to rule! Yet, he denied it. How?! He was a natural leader, she had followed him, he had the lineage, commanded respect amongst the nobility, and was just and fair and kind. Ferelden needed him way more than she did, but he just wouldn't see it that way. She had offered that he marry the daughter of his opposition to create a unified land, but he couldn't see it her way. She wanted a peaceful land, she didn't mind being his mistress, but he was blind, he only wanted her.

When the time came the decision rested on her shoulders. (What decisions hadn't recently?) He had told her repeatedly that he had no desire to be king, but he was the only person she trusted. He had the right blood, the right reluctance to become the ruler, he had the right friends, and (maybe most importantly of all) had the right connections to unite the humans and put up the best fight against the Darkspawn.

So she nominated him, and she knew it was the end. Not the end of Ferelden, no. The end of _them_. He was so dutiful. Without a doubt he would do what was right, that was why she chose him. But she also knew that he could not keep her. She dreaded the moment.

"You know the Grey Wardens don't live long, right?" he said awkwardly, eyes shifting, making an obvious effort to not reach for her hand.

"Yes, but what does that have to do with us?" She played dumb, wanting to extend the moment. It was easier when she just had to make a decision for the best of the realm, now all she wanted was him.

"And I'll need to father an heir quickly, due to our lifespan as Wardens." The implications didn't need to be said, any potential children of theirs would be not only bastards, which he could never condone due to his upbringing, but impure due to the taint. They could not happen.

"I just…" He trailed off. He didn't need to say to words that came next. She _forced_ him to accept his duty. To become king. For the _fucking_ good of the _fucking_ realm. Now it was her turn to eat her own decisions. Yet, somehow, she begrudged him for it. She loved him. The loveable idiot she was introduced to at Ostagar was breaking her fucking heart and it was her fault. He was never hers to have, but damn if she wasn't in love.

"..can't do this anymore…" was all that broke through her shattered consciousness. She knew. He was a gentleman. He was the best kind of man. He wouldn't have a mistress, even for her. He would do the duty she forced him into. Because, he was that kind of guy.

And she loved him even more for it.

"I understand." were the words she forced herself to say. As her eyes met his her hear shattered into pieces. "You are the k…king" a slight moment of weakness breaking her statement.

She couldn't say another word. Her best friend, who she had forced into a position he hated to save the world, and she couldn't speak. He opened his mouth and promptly shut it. The strain was palpable. Nothing either could say would make anything better. The silence was painful, it lingered, but she embraced it. After this moment there was no feelings, this was her last moment to love him because beyond this he was king and she would be seen as the leader of the Grey Wardens. She needed to be strong. So much more than just her feelings were on the line. She remembers looking up and meeting eyes with him, she knows he understands the same. He is king, she is a leader, but not together. Each must fulfill their destiny…..alone.

_The End_…The archdemon lies wounded before them. She had only brought Alistair along because she knew ending the blight was more important than either of them. But now she regretted it. Now she was forced to tell him no./p

"It should be me!" he argues in front of the almost dead dragon. "It's my duty!" He cries desperately.

"I can't let you do this!" she screams. They both know that whoever kills the demon will absorb its essence and die along with the devil. They both know he is more important as king.

"I don't even want to be King!" he screams, panic of his future obligation plain. Panic of obligation over the one he still loves.

"Alistair, please." she begs. "You will be a great king" _her fucking good nature and turning down Morrigan's option for them both to live._ "Your people need you"

"AND HOW THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO ALL THIS WITHOUT YOU!" echoes beyond the tower, across the empty streets of Denerim. His tone is panicked, and she, usually the level headed calming force, has no words.

The silence lingers. It would have gone on forever had the archdemon not stirred. She sighed.

"I'll always love you" almost a whisper as she grabs the sword and runs toward the dragon. She slashes, then dodges, finally plunging the sword into the base of the neck.

The rush, the power, it threatens to overwhelm her, to control her, even as a Grey Warden, but she looks over and sees him. Well, not just him but the future. The future of a kind king. One who cares for his people. A strong king, who enemies dare not test. One who loves his country and rules it justly. And he makes eye contact with her. It breaks her heart. This was never her choice, not her fight, and yet it is her turn to do her duty.

She twists her sword. She and the Archdemon die.


End file.
